Brotherly Love?
by mysticpotion
Summary: What does a family wedding,Houses'ongoing feud with his Father and Wilsons' intake of vicodin make for? Answer? One hell of a weekend in the life's of our two favourite Doctors of course!Rated M just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**Brotherly love? **

Hey all! This is my first attempt at fan fiction. Be gentle with me lol!

This is the first chapter, of what is a completed 17 chapters. I wasn't sure whether to put it all up or just wait and see if you wanted the rest first.

House isn't my show,

This really isn't just,

If I owned this gem,

Gay relationships would be a must!

P.s-please don't judge me on my lame poem. Read on. It can only get better!!!!

House lifted his cane up so that the warmth of the Jersey morning sun radiated on its glistening top. The glow all around him contrasted severely to the darkness he held within. Standing motionless, watching the sunlight glint and bob on the cool steel, he was unaware that Wilson was now leaning against the office door, smiling that smile, that trademark Wilson grin.

'What may I ask are you doing?'

The diagnostician turned to face the handsome doctor standing before him. With a face that betrayed his innermost thoughts, his reply was as quick witted as ever.

'I'm thinking about how gorgeous you look in that new shirt .Isn't that a Wal-Mart original?'

Sarcastically, Wilson proceeded to study his clothing. Pausing a moment for dramatic effect, he began his attack in the battle of wits.

'My word your right, I am just so handsome; I'm so handsome someone should take me to lunch'.

The troubled Doctor looked at his watch and realized he should have been at the cafeteria to meet this lunatic almost twenty minutes ago. Before he could speak though, his friend continued, feeling he had been given the perfect opening to milk this for all it was worth.

'In fact I'm so handsome; someone else should buy me lunch today, or at the very least pay for their own.'

House was now done listening. House was hungry. As he limped towards the elevator, Wilson followed fast on his heels. It clicked open. They walked through the door, and as they did so, their hands both reached for the button in perfect unison. They brushed together. The door clicked shut. They were now lightly stroking each others fingertips. Their hearts were thudding uncontrollably in their chests. They swore their eyes had failed them and no clear line existed between one set of hands and the other. It was a millisecond in their lives. It was an action that most would forget. For them however its sensation had been an electrical storm charged with a thousand forbidden thoughts. Such was the power of its strike.

House cleared his throat and did the only thing he could:

'Wilson if you wanna hold my hand then just go for it. This indecision can really give a girl a complex.'

James Wilson started to blush and knew inside himself that although something must be said on his part to ease the tension, any words that pushed through his trembling lips would be a stuttering mess. As if God had been listening, to his sheep's tortured plea to be set free from the unbearable constraints of the elevators blasphemous perimeters, the door swung open and he had suddenly found his voice once more.

'If you try to hide expensive food under my salad, or if you jump in front of me and say it's on my tab, I'll be breaking your damn fingers off one by one far less caressing them'.

With that he marched in the direction of the cafeteria, with House shouting from behind,

'You call yourself a friend? Threatening violence on a poor defenseless cripple! What would Jesus do Wilson? Oh wait, that's right your people murdered him. What would Moses do man?'

Without turning Wilson retorted:

'Probably smack you over the head with the bit of the stone tablet that says _thou shalt_ _not steal_.'

'Is that before of after he knocks you out with, the committing adultery section?'

There two and fro bickering continued until they were safely in their seats. House scoring a free lunch yet again, and Wilson looking at his smug friend's fingers wishing he could carry out the threat without actual physical contact. A Contact that would produce yet another lethal lightning bolt of unbridled feeling. He concluded it was safer to keep to his end of the table.

When had he started feeling this way about his best friend, his male best friend? He repeated over and over the first time he had had these unsettling thoughts that he was married and happy. Not gay, never gay, he couldn't be. He loved women. He loved them and then he left them, but he never left House. The man was the most dysfunctional screwed up human being he had ever known. A professional junkie and a smug bastard, but he was also the greatest and most unfalteringly honest person he knew. When it came to the basics he was truthful, something that women, his wife's had never been. House always got the truth from Wilson therefore scoring another point over every other woman he had been with. But House wasn't a woman, he was a guy, and Wilson wasn't gay. He thought he might try and choke himself with his salad; instead he just twisted its contents around and around on his plate, hardly looking up at the man who was causing his whole life up until that point to implode in on its self.

House of course was too wrapped up in his own problems to notice the man across from him was practically weeping into his French dressing. He had to ask Wilson a favor, an important one, and began to wonder if it would have been a good investment to have bought him lunch after all. As the dreary clouds began to form on Gregory House's face, Wilson decided to bite, since his line had been dangling for ages without so much as a gentle pull.

'Okay what's up?'

'hmmmmm.'

'I know when something is bothering you; you had the same look earlier on when you were burning holes in your cane.'

'Well now that you mention it, I do need a favor, a teeny tiny one.'

'What?'

'It's nothing really'.

'Hit me with it, like your ripping off a patient's band aid '.

'You want me to tell you unbelievably slowly and with the greatest amounts of pain

Imaginable okay but…'

'I forget who I'm talking to sometimes'.

'I need you to dance with me?'

As if he had planned it to be so, these words formed just as his oncologist friend had taken a drink of his coffee. An explosion of hot liquid suspended itself in the air and gravity pushed it downwards like a rain shower to Wilson's suit pants. As House grinned, and Wilson tried desperately to compose himself, two female nurses broke out into fits of giggles in the far corner of the room.

'Your fan clubs in.'

'Want me two dance with you, like hands round neck, hands on waist, full on dancing?

'Well when you say it like that, it sounds so sordid. I haven't even asked the second

favor yet.'

'No matter how much you beg I'm not wearing a dress and I'm not being the woman.'

'Yet you play it so well in everyday life. Relax its nothing like that. I just need you to

come away with me for the weekend.'

Again Wilson drank his coffee and again it came spitting out. The nurses in the far corner chose this point to get up and leave.

'Uh, looks like you frightened them away. It must be the fact that you're a complete moron.'

'Must you keep saying strange things when I have something hot in my mouth?'

House thought about a reply, and then thought better of it; instead he smiled and tried to put the agitated doctor's mind at rest.

'It's my cousin Roberts wedding on Saturday and he's asked me to be best man. Normally I would tell my family we're to stuff it but Rob is different, he's not a complete idiot so I'll do this for him. It'll be unbelievably unbearable so that's when I figured I'd take you with me, enough alcohol and I might get through the weekend remembering very little and just surviving it. So what do you say?'

House looked up at Wilson and was extremely uncertain as to what his response to this would be. He wasn't stupid, he knew something was going on between them and he figured this weekend would be a test, something to push the boundaries slightly more than usual, and to solve the puzzle of their true relationship once and for all.

Wilson looked down at the coffee soaked remnants of his salad lying limp on the plate, wondering if it would still be strong enough to choke him. What could he say? This man never asked him for real favors. He asked him for lunch, beers from the fridge and money but never anything of substance. Okay, there was the whole Tritter incident when he had nearly went to prison for this same man, but that wasn't the point. He had to say yes. He always had to say yes.

'One condition'

'Name it'

'You get the window seat on the plane and you get me so drunk, that I make a pass at some one in your family. You never know I might find my fourth wife.'

'Well women are always sad and pathetic enough to go with anything at a wedding.'

'Then you'll be in there too.'

As they got up from the table, Wilson saw House was looking somewhere he shouldn't have been, directly under his waist.

'What are you looking at?'

'Your manhood, it's huge!'

Wilson involuntarily looked down to the same spot were House's eyes had been fixed upon, causing his friend to break out into laughter once more. He hadn't looked down because he was unsure of what he would find. He simply wanted to know what was really attracting the diagnosticians' attention. House spoke once more.

'Or the coffee stain that makes it look like you had an accident. It's the excitement of spending the whole weekend with me isn't it?'

Wilson strategically ignored the question as he figured that he wasn't really looking for an answer to that one. Instead he posed another.

'So you were kidding about the dancing'.

'Would you have been disappointed if I was?'

'I'm not going to dance with you House!'

'No, your going to sit with Granny House listening to how she couldn't find her teeth for two days then found them in the dogs bowl, whereas I'll be dancing with Prunella, yes that it is in fact her name, the unmatched 40 something sister of the bride.'

'My, that was vivid.'

'Too bad, cause you're not backing out now.'

Wilson suddenly realized something that never registered before.

'House we just can't up and leave; we should have cleared this with Cuddy at least two weeks ago.'

'Nah she only needed four days notice to get me the hell outta her hair and give me a responsible babysitter into the bargain'.

'You already cleared it, how did you know I'd say yes? I could have been busy.'

'I just had a feeling'.

'Why didn't you ask Cameron?'

They stood staring at one another for some moments until House's beeper started to rhythmically buzz.

'Pack your bags and I guess I'll see you tomorrow.'

And with that he was gone. All Wilson could think was, 'what the hell made me ask that?'


	2. Penicillin of the universe

_Hey thanks for your comments so far. Here's the second chapter. Hope you enjoy! _

**Penicillin of the universe**

_This is your captain speaking could all passengers please ensure that they remain in their seats until the seat belt sign is off _

House flipped the lid on his vicodin bottle, placed the white pills of paradise gently on his tongue and allowed them to slowly slide down his throat, caressing his tortured soul with every inch they transcended and emitting bursts of tantalizing pleasure that very few other things in life gave. For good measure he swallowed down the ice cold scotch he had hid on his person, and before the plane had even left the runway he was already at the summit, before its engines had thrust them upward he was oblivious to the difference and completely stoned.

Wilson gave him a side long glance and breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, he thought, House would sleep for the entirety of the journey or at least be too wasted to say anything profound or unsettling. Normally he would have scolded him, hid his pills when he wasn't looking or watered down the scotch, anything to keep him sober for his first meeting with his parents in over a year, but he was being selfish this time and for good reason. What made him ask the Cameron question? Hopefully it was already forgotten.

Wilson's fidgeted in his chair as the gruff voice next to him made him start.

"I know you worry about flying, but if it crashes I promise you, your death will be excruciatingly painful yet quick, just not as quick as mine."

"Oh really, and why."

"Cause I'll be finishing off my vicodin and getting as much scotch as I can get my hands on."

Wilson just threw his hands in the air as if he was asking a higher power to provide him with some strength. This man was suggesting that in the event of a crash, he would only be interested in acquiring alcohol to go as a great mixer with his prescription, and the sad thing was that Wilson didn't doubt it for one moment.

"Of course the addict must remain faithful to the end, heaven forbid you left this earth without a fix of vicodin and scotch to tide you over till you got to the other side."

It was House's turn to look temporarily frustrated at the words of his friend. How could an intelligent man such as Wilson, who worked with people getting the short straw everyday when it came to life, still believe their was something up there, guiding us all and looking after us like a father. I suppose really it wouldn't be too hard to imagine, if the being was like his paternal one. But no, he preferred to believe that it had all just been one big accident. They were the penicillin of the universe.

Rather than voice this though, his answer was short and sweet giving the same desired effect.

"Other side...the other side."

Then the laughing fit came, and it didn't end till he fell asleep.

The plane shot up into the air and Wilson grasped the edges of the seat, catching the hand once more of the sleeping doctor who lay peacefully beside him. The only positive this had at that moment was Wilson no longer cared if the plane crashed.

"Let the damn thing crash, before I make a complete ass of myself," was muttered ever so quietly under his breath. Eventually, his restlessness caught up with him and he dozed of as well.


	3. I'm Doctor Wilson by the way

**I'm Doctor Wilson by the way **

_This is your captain, we will be descending shortly so all passengers should now go back to their seats and prepare to land, just remains to say hope you had a pleasant flight ,thank you. _

The noise of the jackass on the speaker (as House decided to refer to him) woke him out of the very pleasant dream he was having, Wilson was there, but for the life of him he couldn't remember any other detail. Maybe their didn't have to be any other details. Maybe this weekend was a bad idea. Pondering these thoughts he had failed to notice until this point that a sleeping Wilson lay with his head on his shoulder and his left hand stretched across his chest. The dream started to make sense now. He looked at his peaceful state and asked himself when he had first started to have feelings for his best friend, his only friend. Was that it? Were they real feelings or was it just the substitute he needed, the next new thing to give his life a meaning, an edge, and a difference to the ruling majority. He never liked the rules and he didn't like people telling him what to do. With all this in his head it was hard for House to separate his feelings for Wilson into friendship and love. This weekend would be a good start.

Looking at his friend snoring away to himself the big question was how to wake him up. The answer was House style!

"OH NOOOO… AHHH!!!"

House squealed this in Wilson's ear causing him to jump about ten feet from his seat.

"What's happening are we crashing?"

"What?"

"You were screaming in my ear."

"No I wasn't."

"You were."

"Oh that, no I just couldn't get these novelty sized peanuts to open they're so damn tricky."

House gave the package he was holding a shake, as if to give substance to his alibi.

"Don't do that to me."

"Buts it's too easy."

"Sometimes I just want to take you, and severely beat you."

"Sounds fun."

Wilson looked at him strangely and House was lost for words. Why had he said that? Was it too far? He thought that he should perhaps tone down the flirty comments for a while, they were getting too consistent. Especially when he didn't know if he meant them, or he was joking, or he jokingly meant them. Jeese he was screwed up!

He didn't have to feel uncomfortable for long though as the flight attendant came bounding down the isle her face red with rage:

"Excuse me sir, we have had several complaints that's you were shouting in a bid to make people believe that we were crashing. I must ask that you remain in your seat when we land so we may discuss your need to cause distress to the other passengers further."

Before he had a chance to give his normal witty response Wilson was already giving her an answer.

"Excuse me Miss the reason my friend, DOCTOR HOUSE, was shouting was because he has a disability in his leg and the pain from that got too much for him, so you can tell the fellow passengers that perhaps they should also be aware of holding a bit of consideration for the needs of others."

He ended with, "I'm Doctor Wilson by the way."

Never had House seen a woman's attitude change so quickly. He had to hand it to Wilson; he knew how to manipulate the ladies.

"I'm so sorry doctors. Doctor House I apologize that was insensitive and rude of me to just barge over here like that."

House thought he's play up a little to the pathetic picture painted of him.

"That's okay, I'm used to it," he said in meek voice then winced and rubbed his leg for dramatic effect. Before the women's guilt made her burst into tears Wilson had to think quick. Looking at her name tag, he continued to lay on the charm.

"Not at all Lydia, I can think of worse people telling us off."

To House her laugh was puke inducing but if it was getting him out of having to sit there for an extra hour he would grudgingly listen to it. He couldn't help thinking was it her laugh that was annoying him or the fact that she was all over Wilson? Eventually she left to do her job and the oncologist lothario turned to face him with a look of pure glee.

"How good am I, go on admit it."

"Pretty good. And she likes you."

"I'm not interested."

House started to cheer up but felt his reasons for not being interested in the six foot blonde with a figure like a playmate, had to be explored.

"Are you crazy, did you see her?"

"You didn't seem too impressed 10 seconds ago when you practically ignored her the whole time she was here."

"She was too giggly, but that doesn't bother you. What's the problem? She's an air hostess so you're smarter than her. She's hardly in the country, you could cheat on her and she'd never know and when I put my little performance on did you see the guilt in her face. Clearly she's Jewish, therefore perfect for you."

"I'm not interested, I'm looking for my next disaster to at least have something meaningful about it, so when I screw it up I can say it wasn't a complete loss."

The plane started to descend and both sat in silence, silence was good, it stopped them from actually saying anything.


	4. Heterosexual bags and Homosexual cats

_Hey. Thanks once again for the comments. Blushes. You've all been so darn helpful and supportive lol. Hope you enjoy chapter four! _

**Heterosexual bags and Homosexual cats**

"You Brought James. How nice to see you sweetheart."

House's mother pleasantly welcomed them both into her home, clasping her reluctant and petulant looking child in her arms and giving him a warm kiss on the forehead.

Wilson smiled as he watched his crimson faced friend wipe the red remnants of affection from his head, before it sunk in and perhaps caused any emotional substance to circulate his system. He looked like a boy trying to look cool in front of his friends and Wilson could almost here the, 'quit it mom', Speech coming from his silent lips.

"What are you looking at? Your next", House said with glee, and his mother carried out the same procedure on a startled Wilson.

"I thought you would have brought a lady friend with you, but it's nice to see you again of course James."

Wilson merely nodded his head as House whispered in his ear, "Maybe I should have brought Cameron after all, eh?"

The words startled him. So he hadn't forgotten his comment the day before. Of course he hadn't. This was House, he was like a dog with a bone, and he'd keep digging it up the whole weekend. He knew this subject wasn't closed yet.

Wilson realized he was now the only one standing in the sitting room and made his way quickly to the kitchen to join the others.

"Your fathers out buying some groceries, he'll be home in about an hour."

Was the response, no doubt, to House's uninterested enquiries as to where the man was, whose sperm linked with his mother's egg causing the biological reaction that formed him. That's how he referred to the person who happened to live with his mother.

Wilson pulled the chair out next to his friend and sat down just in time to hear his response to that man's time of coming home.

"Oh joy."

As if sensing the storm about to hit Wilson busied him self straightening out his tie, doing this whilst looking at the floor with more than common interest.

Mrs. House spoke icily and with authority:

"Look Gregory I know you and your father don't see eye to eye. It hurts though I've accepted it, but you are my son and I love you, and oddly enough I like to see you once in a while, so please for my sake just get along with him this weekend and use the little social grace you have to hold it together, for me if nothing else."

Looking down at the table House felt like the five year old Gregory again, sitting in the same spot being made to feel horrible by the women who gave him life. A life he ironically despised. However 'Gregory' was powerless to deny her anything.

As if to shift the topic of conversation onto more maternal matters, his mother did what mothers do when their sons come home with their best friends. She offered to feed them and they accepted.

As they ate and Mrs. H (as Wilson threatened to start calling her to the abhorrence of his friend), busied herself fixing their rooms, the Cameron question came up again.

"So why did you ask me that?"

With a mouth full of food, James Wilson motioned to House that he would have to wait for a response, all the while the wheels turning violently in his head as to what he would actually say. Eventually his esophagus was clear and he could form an answer, or at least hold one off for as long as humanly possible.

"I didn't ask you anything."

"About Cameron."

His heart pounded and every word he was about to form would feel like it was being pushed out in childbirth, but he had to say this coolly, calmly and most of all collectively. He had to get this right.

"I dun no, I guess I just was thinking like Mrs. H."

House gave him a look that said he would beat him up if he continued to use that term of phrase. Wilson laughed and then calmly took a sip of his water. He was doing well but he had to keep it up.

"I just found it funny that you would bring her into the conversation. You know that theirs nothing... I mean you know I don't like her, so I just didn't get the question."

The oncologist looked at him. Now would be the perfect opportunity to get some of the worry off his chest. To ask House if he really meant that and deep down in that dark void in his soul there wasn't something aching for Alison Cameron just a little. To ask him if she had made anymore clear cut advances, and most importantly to check none of those advances had been actually met. Instead he would take the safe option. He was treading on dangerous territory enough already.

"Okay."

House looked angry at this word. One little word, that's all he had to theoretically say to end this discussion, yet that word somehow managed to piss the listener off.

"What do you mean okay."

Again, calmly taking a sip of water he formed his last sentence on the subject, and hopefully that would be an end to it. Hopefully he wouldn't end up spitting out anything resembling jealousy of allergy doctors, like he had done with his coffee.

"I thought you had a thing for her but your saying you don't so okay, it's closed, that's why you brought me."

The minute the words were out he realized what it sounded like and prayed that House didn't make the usual awkward joke when one or both of them stupidly let the homosexual cat out of the heterosexual bag.

How House wanted to say, 'because I have a thing for you?', but the plane incident had been a good lesson to learn and one that couldn't have came quick enough. So instead they looked at one another, but what they were looking for they didn't know.

Mrs. House came bounding into the kitchen all smiles and grace, causing the tete a tete to end abruptly.

"Thank you MRS HOUSE," Wilson said looking at the man at the table and trying to allay his fears over the new nickname situation, "that was lovely."

"Thank you James, it's nice to know someone appreciates my cooking."

"Thanks," came the required reply followed by the, 'your a suck up' look directed at Wilson.

As she busied herself with the washing up and before Wilson could gallantry offer to assist, just to wind 'Gregory' up some more, she broke into voice.

"Oh I almost forgot to tell you boys, but then again you'd have found out soon enough, you have to share one of the guest bedrooms."

House hadn't been listening to a word, but when he heard share and bedroom in the same speech his head shot up violently and he almost shouted the words, 'Why the hell is that?' Instead though there came a more controlled but visibly startled reply.

"You have two guest rooms, who's getting the other one?"

"Aunt Meredith. She's coming all the way from Australia for the wedding."

House couldn't let this happen but at the same time could he? No he couldn't.

"Good for her, Wilson technically came all the way from Israel, so do you think that maybe he can get the room and she can say good day mate to the Hilton manager?"

"Gregory call him James, and really sometimes I don't know were that attitude came from. She's your Aunt and like I said before it's not like you brought a female friend. Now that would be awkward, but it's James, you can share for two nights."

House turned to Wilson and saw the last drop of blood drain from his chalky, almost grey face. Oh if she only knew exactly how awkward this was, or what was going through their minds these last couple of months, she would have gladly packed the boomerang throwing barmy English prison colony Aunt back down under.

As if things couldn't get any worse she swayed her head in Wilson's direction and began to unknowingly turn the screw even more.

"James, you don't mind sleeping with my son for a couple of nights do you."

What the hell could he say to that? What possible answer to that question would not sound like he was inviting House to jump his bones? The only answer he could give was a humorous one and so it followed.

"Well I'm sure a few nights won't kill us House, and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

How he was able to say that without sliding against the table top and landing on the floor he didn't know, but he managed it. Now all he had to worry about was not doing something so stupid that House would indeed end up chasing him with a knife, threatening to surgically remove certain parts of his anatomy.

Mrs. H. spoke once more.

"Exactly dear, though I do apologize, I know how people like their own space and I also know what a handful my son can be."

House's only thought was that no one would be getting a handful of anything that was attached to him.


	5. Eyes of Sapphires

**Eyes of Sapphires**

The case landed with a thud on his bedroom floor. From when they exited the kitchen to the moment they got inside the flustering hot room, House continued to repeat profanity's about the Australian people in general.

"Why does it seem that every time someone really manages to piss me off it's always an Australian?"

Wilson sat down on the bed and managed a worrying smile. He thought that perhaps someone should phone Chase and tell him to take Monday off. Something told the oncologist that he would be getting the lion's share of the donkey's work due to this ill fated incident.

"Perhaps because a boyishly good looking one manages to do just that?."

House swung round at this remark. Wilson was talking about Chase and yes Chase did annoy the living shit out of him, but that wasn't why he had swung round. Was Wilson suggesting House was attracted to Chase? Was Wilson attracted to Chase? Why the hell did Wilson say boyishly good looks? Was House having a nervous breakdown?

The latter was the only thing he could answer with absolute certainty, so he shrugged off the comment, but not without making a minutely scathing snipe in Wilson's direction.

"That's the only thing you have to say? You could at least try to sound mildly interesting you know. Throw a comment in about Australians. Say something nasty about My Aunt, or Chase. Throw me anything but don't just sit their on my bed looking pleased with yourself."

"Okay, Your Auntie is probably a thieving hag who'll be after my wallet, and Chase…well Chases hair is sooo…nup I just can't do it his hair is flawless. Oh and I'll think you'll find this is our bed for the weekend not yours."

Was House hearing correctly? What the hell had happened from them leaving the kitchen to them getting to the bedroom? Had the two flights of stairs to the room caused the oxygen levels to drop rendering Wilson senses useless? But more importantly, were the hell had he put his vicodin? And why hadn't he thought about it before now?

Wilson's behavior had indeed changed dramatically since they left the kitchen. I'd like to say the dashing doctor had took a strong dose of reality, came to his senses and realized that this situation could be persevered through diligently and without a train crash occurring. Instead I must sadly report that it was a different kind of dosage he had swallowed and its name was vicodin.

House, clearly agitated, searched his pockets looking for the only constant he had in his life apart from Wilson. Eventually he noticed laughing coming from the direction of his…they're bed.

"And what the hell may I ask do you find so hilarious?"

Wilson was now sprawled out on the bed. He composed himself to look up, and raising his right hand he said rather suggestively, "looking for these".

House walked round the edge of the bed and snatched them from his hand and Wilson lay back down again. House swallowed two over and then began his attack.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, you can't take these you idiot, they're addictive and they get you high?"

Wilson was tracing circles with his hands but managed to say rather matter of factly:

"Now if you'd only tell yourself that, you wouldn't be in the state your in would you."

House ignored his moronic quips and instead walked round the bed and sat next to him, pulling him up so they're eyes were level.

"How many did you take?"

"I can really see why you like these, they're something else. I feel wonderful now and the colors. Your eyes are so …what's that word I'm looking for?"

House amusedly placed his friend back down onto the bed.

"I'll hazard a guess and say BLUE!"

"No, that's not the word."

"How many did you take?"

"Just one or maybe two but not three. I think it was two."

"Alright shut up I get it."

"Greg."

House was quite surprised to hear his Christian name come from his friend as it very seldom did but he pushed this aside to answer his calls

"What?"

"Sapphires."

And with that he passed out.

House stared at the man on his bed. All he could think was, 'Cuddy wanted this idiot with me because she thought he'd be a good influence?'

Just then he heard the faint opening of a door downstairs and that man started to call his name.

"Gregg, were are you, your mother said you were upstairs."

"Then I'm probably upstairs you idiot," he said quietly to himself remembering his unspoken promise to his mother.

"Yeah I'll be down in a minute."

He took a deep breath, closed his room door and although he cursed Australians going up the way, going down he chose to curse his useless Jewish friend who had flaked out on him right when he needed him by his side the most.


	6. The 'Cripple' down the Street

**The 'Cripple' down the Street**

"So you came then?"

Mr. House stood looming, leering at his son at the bottom of the stairs as he watched him limp down with the use of his Cain. A rough looking man and a man's, man he had never had much to connect himself with his son. Greg was a thinker, not a doer and the complete opposite of him. Sometimes he had guiltily thought that perhaps his wife had had an affair to produce such an alien offspring. That was at least one thing they had in common. Both prayed that one day this was proved true.

Although House had lay in his bed from the age of fourteen, hatching a plan to silently slide into his parents bedroom and snip a piece of his dads hair, or swab his mouth, he had never worked up the courage, not even to this day.

In reply to his question he gave an obvious answer because he had nothing else to say that wouldn't be considered a smart mouthed comment or him trying to cause trouble.

"Looks like it."

They stood there shuffling their feet until House senior remembered something important.

"Your Mom said James is with you, where is he?"

House got a twinkle in that crystal ocean eye of his and licked his lips at the prospect of his next words. He needed a release, he couldn't take being nice to him, and after all he wouldn't be lying to cause trouble, for once he'd be absolutely serious.

"Oh he's lying stoned in our bed right now. Nothing better Jimmy likes than to pop some pills."

Okay so the last thing he said was pushing the boundaries of truth and winding up this jackass just a twinge more than needed but he was only human, and that was the problem this man had with him. That and he was a big fat cripple boy.

"Why do you always have to give a smart ass remark to every civilized question I ask you?"

"Oh it's not just you, I give smart ass remarks to everyone _dad._"

This last word was said in such a mocking tone he thought that 'dads' head was about to explode. Well he could always hope.

"All you had to say was that the poor boy was sleeping off the plane journey, but instead you have to slander him and try to drag his clean image through the mud, in the hope that you can make him as tainted as you."

"And we all know why you think I'm tainted don't we, three guesses, kind of rhymes with dumb peg."

"This is nothing to do with your leg."

"Its okay, moms not here, you don't have to make it out your all liberal, just admit you would have shot people like me in ye olden times and we can move on."

"It's all in your head with that stupid leg of yours, it only made you more of a pathetic human being, you know, the kind that people take pity on and let get away with things. You're like that cripple down the street who goes by on his wheelchair throwing stones at people. Everyone is scared to take you on because of that leg, well I'm not."

"Nice to know you think that about Andrew. Yeah I know longer live here and I know the 'cripple' down the street as you call him actually has a name. They let him have one."

"Just don't drag that poor boy down with you, when you hit the gutter _Gregor_y."

Now Mr. House's tone what that of mocking to his son.

"Jee you're right, you know what I'll do, I'll get rid of Wilson and I'll go sit with A.N.D.R.E.W, and we'll be useless cripples together. Better yet why don't I just leave and you can pretend Wilson's your son. And you're right, you were a son of a bitch to me before the leg but don't dare try to deny to me that it didn't increase ten fold afterwards."

It was sweet release for Gregory House to get those words out in the air. It was like that first kick you get when you fall in love or solve your first medical puzzle. Or take your first vicodin tablet. For him anyway, it was that euphoric.

"I think you should get out of my site now, you've already managed to break your promise to your mother, and so have I."

Mr. House looked despondent. He had no love for this bitter man who stood before him. He hated him. Hated him because he couldn't be like other sons, and he couldn't love him like other father's could love their own. Why was he different? Why did he have to be so different?

With that he was gone, his thoughts unknowingly proving the point his son was trying to make all along, and House was left alone at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the door and thinking he might like to go sit with Andrew after all.


	7. Were you watching me?

**Were you watching me?**

Two eyes flickered open in the blackened room, struggling to make sense of where they were and how exactly they had got their. Then it all came flooding back. The cafeteria, the plane journey, Cameron and the vicodin. This last memory made the brown eyes flinch a little more than all the rest. Why had he done that? How could he have let himself be so exposed to the very thing he was trying so desperately to conceal? What had he said exactly? How was he going to explain his actions to House? And why did he have the word Sapphire imprinted on his short term memory bank?

As he shifted to get up, he felt a hand grab him in the darkness and a familiar voice say his name.

"Wilson"

His body began to shake as he realized House was lying beside him now. He must have slept all through the night.

"Yeah"

"Am I useless cripple, who's a self centered asshole and is slowly dragging you down to the gutter with me?"

Wilson sighed and turned to face his friend. Leaning towards him and putting his, 'you've got cancer' face on (as House called his serious face); he spoke to the tired looking man lying next to him.

"I assume this was all in the conversation I missed between you and your father."

"Am I? Do I?"

House needed an answer to his question quickly. Not much that his father said really managed to get to him anymore, but even now there were still times were he could get through his defenses and unnerve him. House though could only think it fitting that Wilson should be the cause of this occurrence. After all he had been unnerving him since the first time he had realized that to not have Wilson in his life would be like not having his vicodin, with one difference, in time he could learn to live without the vicodin.

He was snapped back into reality by the response that felt like a long time coming.

"Yes. And I praise God for it everyday."

Wilson now had his, 'you've not got cancer' face on. House new him too well. Sometimes he thought he knew him better than he knew himself. After all isn't it easier to read someone else's book than to write your own?

House gave Wilson two taps on the arm (his way of saying thank you I really needed that) and then asked him the question he was dreading.

"So did you enjoy your trip?"

Wilson shifted so that he was sitting upwards on the bed, and thought, simply, here goes.

"Yes thank you it was lovely."

House looked at him; his face was lit up only by the rounded moon suspended outside the window. He looked like shit He would tell him but not just now. He had something far more important to say.

"Do you know why I didn't ask Cameron?"

Wilson stood up as if to stretch his legs, but once again he was agitated.

"Not with this again House, look you don't have to explain that, just drop it."

"I can't I need to tell you why I didn't invite her."

"Okay then tell me, and then we can get some sleep."

"You've been sleeping all night."

Something occurred to Wilson at that point and it made his stomach do flips to think about it, however he had to know.

"When I woke up you spoke to me straight away, were you watching me?"

House hadn't been prepared for this question. What could he say? He couldn't tell him that he lay looking at him, tracing his every feature, for nearly three hours. He couldn't tell him that he had thought several times about how much he would have loved him to open his eyes and realize he had been doing just that, smile at him and allow his lips to slide gently onto his. No he had to think of something else, something that sounded more like him and less like the 15 year old girl he had apparently mutated into.

"Someone had to make sure you didn't kill yourself when you stole someone else's medical prescription."

Wilson looked down at his feet in guilt.

"And I wasn't watching you, just listening and thinking, mostly thinking."

"House can't the Cameron thing wait till later, we have to be up in a couple of hours and you have to pull yourself together for this cousin of yours, screw your father he's an ass hole and you know it. Get some sleep."

"No more stealing my vicodin."

Wilson was glad in the shift in topic and therefore his demeanor became much lighter.

"I'll admit it was fun, but I won't be doing that again, in a hurry."

House had to ask him the question once more just in case he hadn't heard it right the first time. He had to check that he wasn't slowly destroying this mans life. The man who put so much trust in him and got very little back.

"Is my bad influence dragging you down to the gutter?"

"No mines is keeping you out of it."

House lay his head against the pillow and felt relaxed for the first time that evening, since they had been told they were sharing a room. Why had he got so worked up, so agitated? Sharing a bed with Wilson was fast becoming the easiest thing in the world he had ever had to do.

Wilson walked into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and compose himself before he went back to bed. It was then he heard his friend call for him once more.

"Wilson."

"Yeah."

"Should I tell you what you said to me today when I was sitting on the bed with you or should I keep that till tomorrow as well?"

Before Wilson could answer, a loud banging noise began. It seemed to be coming from the direction of House's parent's bedroom.

"Unbelievable." House exclaimed. His Father was actually signaling for them to be quiet.

Wilson silently finished up in the bathroom and got into bed beside House. It was like they were children again. And their muffled laughter was only reinforcing the comparison.

House spoke first.

"I forgot to tell you, the walls are as thin as paper in this House."

"Your teenage years must have been a blast."

"They had their moments."

Some time had passed before Wilson Whispered the words, "oh no."

House was intrigued.

"What."

"Do you think he heard me call him an asshole?"

The thud, thud noise appeared once more as their muffled laughter grew into an incredulous roar.


	8. With one grip of her shoulder

**With one grip of her shoulder**

When Wilson woke the next day his friend had already exited the bed. He thought back to what he said about what he said when he had been 'indisposed'. In all his pleadings, House wouldn't tell him. Part of Wilson new it couldn't have been too bad or House wouldn't have been so playful as to take pleasure in his squirming. But still he wondered what he had said.

Wilson got dressed and went downstairs to find House's mother standing at the kitchen counter. Her eyes were clearly red, and it was obvious she had been crying. Wilson started to worry that maybe House had done a runner, leaving him to pick up the emotional pieces as payback for leaving him exposed and alone to face his harshest critic the night before.

He walked to her and with one grip of her shoulder somehow managed to release the floodgates of her emotions till she was clinging to him in fits of tears. If only such an action would produce the same result in her son. He wondered if he should just let her get it all out. The good thing about this, the only good thing about it, was that being a cancer doctor meant this was second nature to him, and nine times out of ten he knew exactly when the questions should be asked and when things should remain silent.

This was definitely silent time.

It was then that House walked through the kitchen door saying something about getting her the pie she wanted but…he trailed off when he witnesed the sight in front of him.

"What's wrong, what's going on? Why is she crying like that? Where is he I'll kill him!"

At that she wailed a little and clung even tighter to Wilson's suit jacket. He looked at his friend who had worry etched in every contour of his face and offered some helpful advice.

"I'm guessing, now don't byte my head off its only a guess, that she doesn't want her son to kill his father, she wants him to reconcile with him."

Wilson made a movement for House to take his place, but it was met with a negative response, eventually though he got his way and upon the passing off the delirious women their hands were intertwined and their lips only inches apart. Again those unnatural thoughts came into their minds and again confusion roamed supreme. As if things weren't complicated enough.


	9. Showtime

**Showtime**

The drive to the wedding was uneventful after the morning's goings on. Things had been temporarily patched up and now everyone sat in silence in the car. Wilson had noticed that House's vicodin intake had increased since yesterday evening but he hardly felt in a position to chastise his friend, especially when he had two less to ease his pain due to his own spineless actions.

It felt like any minute something major was about to develop. But from what angle it was hard to tell. A ticking time bomb none the less. To make matters worse the Australian never stayed with them after all. They had shared a room for nothing. At least they would have their own rooms tonight. Yet neither could definitely, wholeheartedly say that this was a good thing. One thing sharing had done was set some things clear in both their minds. It was how to form these into actions and words or how to best deal with them that was the conundrum.

As they exited the car and made their way into the church, Wilson turned to House and winked at him. It was meant as a support wink but if House took it to mean anything else, then so be it.

No matter what the wink meant House smiled and simply said, "Showtime."


	10. To Love, Honor and Obey

**To Love, Honor and Obey**

The wedding itself had gone off without a hitch, so to speak, except that Robert had messed up one of his lines causing House to whisper something in his ear which nearly had him in fits of laughter.

Now was the wedding reception. Now was the alcohol. But where was House?

As Wilson sat drinking his first and yet definitely not his last scotch of the evening, he went over the wedding in his mind. He knew pretty much everything there was to know about weddings, how the hell could he not? But today was the first time he had actually listened to the words that were said by the minister. In a non Jewish wedding anyway. Before the words were just a step to get to the next step, now they meant something. He remembered glancing in his friend's direction during the ceremony and it looked like he too was taking it to heart, which would be a pretty profound omission for a self confessed atheist. Then again he could have just been staring at the 23 year old blonde cousin of the bride who was to her left and thinking, 'why couldn't he dance with her?'

Love, honor and obey, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live.

Love? For as long as he lives? He always had.

Honor? Again it was their in their relationship.

Obey? A bit more than he liked to.

In sickness and in health? He'd been there before and after the leg, before and after the shooting.

If that was marriage, if that's what you had to really feel in order to get to the next step, then why would it be so hard for them to do so? Why did it feel like it would be such a scandal, such a disappointment?

His thoughts were shattered by the clink of a glass on his and a cane threw onto the table for good measure as well.

"Hey"

"Hey"

"So how did it feel to be at a wedding were it was someone else throwing their life down the drain and not you."

House never missed an opportunity to remind Wilson that he apparently sucked at marriage and monogamy. Well there was really no apparent in it. He did. But Wilson didn't like to see it in quite these terms. He believed that he had married the right people and just hadn't found the wrong one yet.

He had long since decided that on this particular aspect of his failed life, he would gladly take as light hearted an attitude to it as his 'supportive' friend did.

"Refreshing."

House smiled and as they often did they shared a moment. Moments were all the history, all the knowledge that they had carefully built up about one another were in place like the building blocks of biology. They had worked hard to learn the science of House and Wilson, much harder than they had worked for their professions, much harder than they had worked for any other relationship. And it was still a mystery, a mystery each day closer to being solved. The biggest puzzle House would ever crack and the biggest thing Wilson would ever be able to cure.

House stared at the people up dancing and noticed one profound thing.

"They're all idiots."

Wilson was staring intently into the dance floor, thinking the polar opposite of course.

"Why exactly."

"They do what society tells them to do. How many of them do you actually think are

happy with their partners?"

"Most of them."

"You're an idiot too, the three marriages proves that. You never took what you wanted, you took what others dangled in front of you and conditioned you to want."

He stared into the floor again

"10 percent, about ten percent and that's a generous push, will be happy with their partners."

"So what are you saying?"

House looked at the man in front of him and a light finally went on in his mind, a light that would never go out.

"We should allow ourselves to be happy Jimmy. Because if we don't we're fucked."

Wilson was about to say something. He was about to ask, 'why didn't you take Cameron,' when Prunella the bride's sister interrupted proceedings to drag House onto the dance floor. His pleas were met with uncontrollable laughing by Wilson. If any one else had interrupted them at that moment for anything less amusing he would have knocked them out, but this was too good.

House was swayed about the floor by the drunken neurotic mess with the married younger Sister for what seemed like an eternity. The woman was trying her utmost to charm this man, but it was a waste of time. His mind was elsewhere.

"So your cousin married my sister that practically makes us cousins."

"Yip."

He was looking in the direction were Wilson was, who was now talking to his mother.

"So I'm gonna cut to the chase because time is short. Would you like to go out some time?"

House looked at the women in front of him and didn't want to hurt her. Maybe it was something to do with his new found feelings or the fact she was bigger than him but…something in her words struck a chord… cut to the CHASE! He would teach that little rich boy from coming from the worst country in the world.

"I'm sorry Prunella, you see that man over there with my mother."

He pointed to the man who smiled back at him

"He's actually my partner."

"Business"

"No pleasure"

She looked disappointed but House couldn't have that could he.

"However I have a friend called Robert who's Australian and he would just love you. He's a doctor as well, here's his number, and don't take no for an answer he's just shy."

Prunella took the number and gladly. Before she left, House thought he better say something just incase what he said (which was after all just a fiction) got out.

"Prunella no one knows about us yet but I just didn't want to make you think I didn't like you. If I was straight you'd be the first I'd call."

"You want me to keep quiet."

"Please"

"Gotcha,"

She winked at him and was gone


	11. Brotherly love

**Brotherly Love**

As the night went on though, House noticed more and more people in the hall looking at him, then Wilson, then back to him, and realized that homosexual cat had escaped again.

Wilson however was oblivious as to what had transpired since he had indeed been sitting with Granny House minus her teeth and Mrs. House also. This thought Greg when he glanced over, could only be fuelling the rumors.

As House went to go break the good news, he was stopped by the bride and groom.

"Hey House, why didn't you tell me you're gay?"

"Who told you that? I'm miserable and always will be."

"You know what I mean. So are you with him?"

"Yes, but only at the weekends.That's when i like to call myself Susan.Good luck kid your probably gonna need it if the sister is anything to go by."

Robert choked on his champagne and his bride for the first time that day started to blush, but with anger rather than modesty.

When he got to his mothers side of the hall, he noticed Wilson was no longer there.

"Where's Wilson?"

"Oh he went to the bathroom dear, and don't call him Wilson his name is…"

But it was too late her son was already half way across the hall

"Those boys, so impersonal with one another."

House glared at those few who actually chose to look him in the eye and carried straight on to the toilet, knowing that if anyone had noticed his 'partner' going in that direction the George Michael jokes would start to flow. He had to find him before he found out what was being said.

As he entered the stalls two guys looked at him funny and then exited.

He saw one compartment was closed and decided to try his luck and look over the door. If it wasn't Wilson…well it'd at least be a hilarious story to tell one day.

He leaned over and saw his friend with head in hands.

"Hey sweetheart."

Wilson didn't even look up at him, instead he said:

"You told everyone in the place bar me that we were gay, interesting strategy, how are you planning on working that bye the way?"

"So how did you find out?"

"Does it really matter…sweetheart?"

"Now you're just being pissy."

Wilson looked up at him his cheeks burning with obvious rage. House could only think about how great he looked and laughed a little at how strange this new attitude was.

"I was standing at the bar, and someone said, I wonder who's the guy, so before I had a chance to look round someone else said, it's clearly House you can just tell that other guy is his bitch, the way he's been running around after him all day, then he finished it all very eloquently to leave me in no doubt with the words fucking queers, so thanks.'

House started to laugh and this made Wilson worse.

"You are just unbelievable; I have no words for you."

"Oh come on… stop being such a bitch."

Wilson just stared at him. Raw emotion in his eyes

"You didn't answer my question?"

"What question was that?"

"What possible reason you had for saying that before you spoke to me."

"Firstly I didn't tell everyone in the place. I told Prunella it because I think she would have killed me, had I declined for her to have her wicked way with me.

I thought it was safer to suggest that was your job.

Secondly, I don't think that I need to tell you anything do I, you have a perfectly good mind James."

Wilson ignored the second part of what he said, as if trying to block it out all of a sudden.

"And you didn't think in that brilliant mind of yours that she would open that big mouth she has?"

"No because I buttered her up and asked her not to."

"What happened to everybody lies?"

"I really thought she wouldn't wanna say anything. I gave her Chase's number as a distraction."

"Are you a complete idiot?"

"That'll teach him for being Australian."

"You gave the big mouth who has been telling everyone that we are… we're…"

"The word is gay Wilson."

"Don't push me House. You told her Chase's number. Everyone at work will know on Monday."

"What does it matter, it was said to get the crazy lady to leave me alone and that's all anyone will believe it to be, your blowing this outta proportion."

Wilson looked at him slightly hurt and opened the cubicle door to face him.

"So that's the only reason it was said. Theirs no other possible reason?"

Before he could answer, House's dad had barged into the bathroom.

House threw his hands up in the air and proclaimed:

"Must we get interrupted every time?"

Before he could say anymore though, they were being dragged out of the toilet and through the back door of the club.

"You both wait here and I'll bring the car round with your mother."

"Ohh have a finally found something that makes you more ashamed than the leg, never thought I'd see that day."

As House senior marched in the direction of the hall once more, the two men stood in stunned silence for a moment, each thinking that they were about to wake up from this at any moment, were they would realize it was all just a dream and none of it was real.

However such wishful thinking was abruptly brought to an end.

"Did your father just drag us out of their like we were children? Or did I imagine it?"

"Oh we haven't got to the good stuff yet. If it's like my childhood he'll lock us in the cellar for six hours. Oh no wait he wouldn't dare put us in together, in case we got up to anything. Plus you're the good innocent child, so it'll just be Quasimodo here who'll get locked up in the bell tower."

Wilson faced his friend with worry in his eyes. House just looked away, and started to whistle a tune that sounded very similar to the great escape.

House's father pulled up in the car with his mother in the back indicating that they weren't sitting together their either.

Wilson had the task of sitting in the front with the outraged man, who looked as House thought, tantalizingly close to having an aneurism. Now why couldn't he get an unbelievable profound disease? That would be one mystery he wouldn't break his back to solve.

As they got inside the House, James Wilson looked like he was about to faint for the second time in two days. He was such a goody, goody and even at his advanced age he felt like his parents were about to be phoned up because he had been naughty with his friend. But then again he hadn't. And as House said it was a lie. The truth was just wrapped in side and hadn't been opened yet. They could get through this with minimum embarrassment if House just explained why he had said what he did.

"I want you to explain right now what's going on between you to."

Wilson looked at House; House looked at Wilson and then said rather truthfully, "I wish I knew."

"Don't give me that, in your drunken state you told everyone that you and he are gay, now is it true."

Wilson went to speak but was motioned to be quiet. He wasn't asking him.

"Would it hurt you if we were?"

Wilson placed his head in his hands for the second time that night. He knew were this was going and it wasn't good.

"It would hurt your mother, do you want that?"

House looked temporarily wounded turning to his mother and seeing the panic in her eyes, panic but not disappointment.

"I could never hurt her, she loves me too much, but I could hurt you, really hurt you."

"Are you or aren't you gay?"

House smirked and before he replied, Wilson was the one to give the answer, and a different one to that which House had decided upon.

"No we're not, it was all to get rid of that awful women Prunella, you know what he's like, he made a sarcastic joke and she took it to be truth. Ask yourself have you ever seen either of us, in all the time we have been friends show anything other than brotherly love."

Mr. House turned to his son and began to mock him.

"You would really say anything to get to me wouldn't you. If it wasn't for James you'd have us all believing that you and he were an item. Again you'd drag the poor boys reputation down the drain. Your problem is you are jealous of him."

House started to laugh. It was scary. This wasn't the moment to laugh but things were so unbelievably and ironically funny. Whereas one tortured man had chosen to believe his feelings for his friend were now brotherly; the other was screaming at the top of his voice that they were lovers. Yet neither one believed entirely in what they were saying.

House senior became angry at his sons outburst, he was trying to bring him to his knees not amuse him.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

He never got an answer to that. House walked past him and hugged his mother telling her he would make more time to see her and saying sorry. Sorry that no matter how much he tried he couldn't make it work with this man.

He then walked past 'the man' and whispered in his ear, "I want a DNA test," and with that he left the House, not even looking at Wilson.

Wilson stood there for a moment looking at the two people staring back at him. He obviously should have gone after House but he was scared. Scared because he was frightened he blew it. Frightened he hadn't or that not allowing him to torment his father further would put a serious wedge between them.

House's father spoke first.

"I'm sorry about that son; this must be making you extremely uncomfortable."

"I can handle it."

"I mean to say you were gay and with him."

"Why would that be so unbelievable?"

Wilson stared at the idiot who was talking to him. The imbecile who he knew caused House so much pain, and he badly wanted to knock him out. He knew in his heart that he would have done so if House's mother hadn't been witness to all of this. She had suffered enough, but then again so had her son. What made it all worse, as he looked at this smiling man, was that in that split second of blind panic he had added to his friends misery by doing what he did and allowing his father to chastise him once again. And he felt ashamed. But he could fix it. It was time to be braver than he had ever been before. It was time to admit the truth to him self.

"I mean look at him he's screwed up, what man or women would dare…"

He didn't get to finish that, Wilson cut him off with 5 simple words

"I'm in love with him."

Houses father was stunned. His mother had a tiny outline of a smile on her face.

"What?"

"I think you heard me. You may not think it but he is worth something. He's a great man a far better one than you or I. And the way you treat him sickens me. It's you who is the cripple, the emotional one, not him."

With that he smiled at Mrs. House, collected his things and was gone.


	12. Finding a Souvenir shop

**Finding a souvenir shop**

The journey home was quiet. Too quiet. Wilson leaned his head against the cool glass of the plane's window and prayed that wherever his friend was, his dear friend, he was safe. He thought he might catch the same flight home as him, had looked desperately in the departure lounge to see if he could spot that Cane or hear that voice telling someone, someplace they were an incompetent fool. Nothing. He was nowhere. It was just as well that the strange diagnostician carried his passport with him at all times .When Wilson had asked him about that his response was, 'with all the drugs and medical risks I take one never knows when they may need to fly to México at a moments notice.' Jeese he was witty. He could always make Wilson laugh. But then again he could also make him completely despondent. This was one of those times. Where was he?

House lay on a bench staring into the vast sky. Stars twinkled and faintly he could hear high notes of the owl in the tree above him. If his mind hadn't been in such turmoil it would be soothing to his ears. Instead he wished he had a gun. That his relationship with his father was dead, he knew. But what exactly was his relationship with Wilson going to be from this moment forward. He thought he had worked it out, but now, now he didn't know. _Have you ever seen either of us, in all the time we have been friends, show anything other than brotherly love?_ Wilson's words came back to him and he had to admit it was true. They had never acted any different than just two good friends, who loved one another as friends do, and sometimes he couldn't even get that right. Yet why then did he now have this aching feeling in his stomach when he thought about him? Why did he feel the need to abandon him, leave him in his House with that man? The answer was because his words had wounded him. His words had given the final answer on his perception of their relationship. Brothers. His words were not the ones House wanted to hear.

As he looked once more up into the night sky, he made a decision. He would simply forget this weekend had ever taken place. He would walk back into work on Monday, save someone's life, make Chase do the really annoying stuff, and if he bumped into his friend, he would be just that, a friend. No more pushing the boundaries, no more testing the water. After all he didn't want to scare Wilson away completely. He didn't want that chord that joined them to break. If that meant he didn't get him the way he now knew he wanted him, then so be it.

As House moved from the bench and stretched his legs one final question entered his thoughts. Where would he get a souvenir shop at this hour?


	13. You took him home to meet the family

**You took him home to meet the family**

Cameron was first to enter the familiar office on Monday morning, opening the doors to let some air into the musty room, smoldering with the heat from the rays bellowing in through the window. She sat down and swung her legs onto the table, in what seemed like the prodigies attempt to mimic the master. It wasn't long before Foreman and Chase followed suit, laughing and joking about the various exploits and conquests they had in their eventful weekends. As Cameron looked at the two of them standing outside the office she thought they were pathetic. Clearly finishing of their stories so she wouldn't have to listen to their derogatory comments about the women they had. In her observation, she noticed that one particular story of Chases seemed to have the desired effect of making Foreman fold with unconstrained laughter. She pitied the poor person who was on the receiving end of such humor, then thought nothing else about it. Her only other thought was, 'where was House?'

Two Hours later and the answer to that question had still not been solved. They each sat there twiddling their thumbs wondering if they should find Cuddy and tell her that their boss hadn't showed up. But like children afraid to tell on the teacher incase later they were rapped over the knuckles, they decided they would simply wait until someone found them.

It was then that James Wilson walked by the office, not ever looking like he was coming in or stopping long enough to be invited, but glancing all the while and looking for someone. Looking for House.

Cameron jumped from her seat leaving the other two to look up, then back down to their morning, now afternoon paper.

She knocked on his office door, but it took him several minutes to say come in. In that time he had been contemplating that it might be House, but then realized he never knocked and scolded himself for being so unable to keep himself in check. He shakily however, and eventually told the person on the other side to enter.

"Have you seen House?"

Alison Cameron looked visibly panicked as she spoke to the man she knew was House's only friend.

"Good Afternoon to you to."

He didn't know what else he could say to her.

"Wilson he's never this late, its 12: 30. I don't know what to do. What should we do?"

Panic started to circulate in Wilson's chest. Maybe something terrible had happened to him. Maybe he'd taken one too many vicodin and drank one too many scotch. He shouldn't have let him leave alone that night. He should have followed him. If something had happened to him, he'd never forgive himself.

As all this was going round in his mind, and as Cameron looked like she was about to cry because Wilson looked like he might, House marched into the middle of the room, followed by Chase and Foreman.

Wilson wanted so badly to throw his arms around him and say the words thank heavens you're safe, but decided upon the more appropriate action of sitting down in his chair and carrying on with his work until he was spoken to. After all Cameron was doing enough smiling for the both of them.

"So kids mommy's home did you miss me?"

Cameron walked over to him and nearly took his hand.

"Where, were you House, me and Wilson were worried about you."

He walked by her and went to his friend's desk who was staring intently at his paperwork.

"You were worried about me, how sweet of you both, but I'm a big boy, and I know how to cross the street on my own now. "

He walked back to his prodigies and pulled from his bag three monstrosities, and handed them to each shocked person in turn.

"I come bearing gifts, from my travels, their tacky, cheap and have no taste whatsoever, I think you all know who I was thinking of when I bought them. Its all right Chase you can say her name she's not here, she's in a meeting."

Foreman, with a twinkle in his eye, decided he would test out what Chase had told him earlier that morning.

"Didn't you get anything for Wilson?"

"No I gave him the pleasure of spending the whole weekend with me and my dysfunctional family. That was his present."

"So you took him home to meet the family?"

Chase hadn't the words out a millisecond when both he and Foreman had dropped down onto Wilson's couch and were laughing hysterically once more. Cameron wished she knew what was going on. She wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

House knew they knew, and from the look on Wilson's face, who was staring at House, he knew House knew they knew, the question was, How was House going to deal with it?


	14. Who thinks next Spring for a wedding?

**Who thinks next Spring for a wedding?**

House stared at the two morons in front of him and thought how best to deal with this. Ideally he would have liked to walk over to Wilson's desk, pull him up by the shirt collar and plant a kiss right smack on his lips, just to show these fools that anything they could do he could do better. When it came to shock, they didn't know who they were dealing with. Looking at his friends face and remembering his thoughts when he lay on the bench, he decided to be much more subtle.

"uhh look at you two sitting their sharing a private joke, how sweet."

Cameron could take this no more. From the looks on everyone else's faces, she was the only one not in the know.

"Yeah guys, care to share, what's so funny."

Chase finished wiping the tears from his eyes and dully obliged.

"I got an interesting phone call from a woman called Prunella on Saturday night. Apparently some cute doctor friend of mine passed on my number to her. Apparently he couldn't use it himself because he was already taken."

This was all he got out before he burst into fits of laughter again. It was at this point Wilson stood up and marched out of the office slamming the door behind him.

How the hell would House make this look like one big joke shared between friends now?

This action stopped their laughing in its tracks. The room was suddenly silent. Painstakingly, silent. House had to think quickly, but luckily he was good at thinking quick. Thinking quick was his middle name.

"You say something to get out of dancing with a fat chick, whose drunk and practically suicidal and all of a sudden the whole room thinks your hobbies include interior designing and going to performances of the rocky horror show."

"So you made it up?"

"Of course I made it up, heelllo I'm mister sarcastic. Don't tell me you thought it was true. Idiots!"

"What was true?"

Cameron still hadn't worked it out or if she had she wanted to make sure.

"That Wilson and House are gay and hot for one another."

Foreman was enjoying every minute of it.

Cameron stood in silence, dumbfounded by the words. Luckily House had another witty comment up his sleeve.

"Well I can't deny he's hot, did you see that sparkly new pen he had dangling over his pocket? And my mother already likes him. I guess it's a done deal. I'll just go find him and we can shake on it. Who thinks next spring for a wedding?"

The three of them just looked at him and with every further sarcastic comment he made, he had banished any belief Foreman and Chase had about the crazy lady's words. Cameron however was a little harder to please.

"If it was all just a big joke then why did Wilson leave the room like that? He looked hurt."

House turned to her and wanted to hit her over the head with the piece of crap he had bought her. He really thought he'd escape the room without having to answer that question.

"Because, his aunt plays canasta with my aunt, well you know how it goes, one thing leads to another and all of a sudden he doesn't have a synagogue to go to any more."

He knew this didn't have the desired affect. It was then that a story Wilson told him that night slipped into his mind and he decided that would put this to rest once and for all.

"He was standing at the bar and two guys…"


	15. Flabbergasted

**Flabbergasted**

House had managed to get through the rest of the day. It had been tough but he'd done it. There were no more wise cracks or enquiries from the three stooges, mainly because he had made them work their asses off for the three and a half hours they had the audacity to sit through, just because he wasn't their to monitor them.

The plan didn't exactly go to plan. Due to getting absolutely hammered in a bar that began with H on the Sunday night he had been late for work. Then he walks in to find Cameron in Wilson's office and the other two debating a five letter word in the crossword puzzle. Then he had to face the man he loved, yes MAN he loved for the first time since he had practically admitted it, and had to do so with a crowded room. Not how he wanted things to go. Then it just got worse. Chase and Foreman, the door slamming, it was all just one big mess and he didn't know how to fix it. He didn't know what to say to Wilson, or if Wilson ever wanted to talk to him again. If he'd managed to screw up this friendship, the only thing that meant anything to him, then he could indeed see himself in the gutter like his father had said, but with one difference. Wilson wouldn't be there. He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of the phone. How long had it been ringing? He didn't know but he had to answer it, the only person who called him was Wilson. What would he say to him? He cursed himself. You won't know that until you pick up the damn phone will you!

He cautiously lifted the receiver and prepared himself for the low tones of the oncologists' voice at the other end, instead he heard his mother's.

"Hello sweetheart."

"Hello mom."

"How are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"I'm okay Gregory; I just want to tell you I'm happy for you, even if your father is not."

House didn't have a clue what his mother was going on about. All he could think was that she had been drinking.

"Why?"

"Gregory, I don't care who loves you, just as long as you find someone who does, heaven knows you need it. And if James can give you what you need then I'm happy for you both."

Thoughts were whizzing round his mind. Why was she saying this? When he had left Wilson had told them it was a lie, so why was she saying this. What had been said when he left?

"Mom what exactly did Wilson say to you."

"Gregory, must you keep calling him by his second name. The poor boy says he's in love with you, and still you insist on being so formal. I'll never understand Doctors!"

House was flabbergasted. He had never used the word flabbergasted before, but if anyone asked him how he felt at that moment there it was. He could hardly form a coherent sentence.

"I have to go now. Goodbye."

And with that the line went dead and Mrs. House sighed and put the receiver down.

Her son and her husband now completely estranged, phone calls would be the only thing that would connect her to her son, and the line went dead on her. What did that mean?


	16. Vandalizing Cuddy's House

**Vandalizing Cuddy's House**

House had to think, but more importantly than that he needed alcohol to do so. He always came up with his best thoughts when he was wasted. Like the time he and Wilson had decided in their drunken state to T.P Cuddy's house, and the guilt in Wilson's eyes when she sat lamenting about the silly kids who did it to her the day after. Now he was alone, and if he had any more profound thoughts like that tonight he would have to vandalize Cuddy's house solo.

He searched frantically in his cupboards for something, anything that would get him pissed out of his mind, but his search was fruitless. He would have to go out and replenish the stock. He thought though it would be safer to only buy one bottle of scotch. If he bought two he would drink two and killing himself was not the answer, though sometimes it certainly felt like it.

He lifted his keys to the motorbike and made his way out into the cold night chill. As he got on his bike and revved the engine, he thought about changing his destination from the liquor store to Wilson's hotel. No, he needed to get drunk and then he needed to think. Then, and only then, could he face Wilson with enough composure to do what had to be done.

As the motorbike zoomed through the street, darting, gliding and twisting he felt free and strangely happy. Well as happy as Gregory House could ever be. His happiness was other peoples, _comme ci comme ca_, and yet still he was. Wilson didn't just love him like a brother; Wilson was in love with him.


	17. The unspoken contract

_Hey everyone! So here it is, what I think will be my last Chapter of my first ever fan fiction! I had some ideas for continuing but i am unsure as i kinda think this is a nice way to end it. What I might do is write a companion piece to go along with it.Oh and thanks for you comments.They have been much appreciated! _

**The unspoken contract**

House threw open his door and stumbled violently into the middle of the room. It was dark. He could have easily turned on the light but that's how he liked it. Because of this preference he had failed to notice the silhouette of a man sitting on his couch. It wasn't until he began walking to the kitchen that the man then acknowledged his presence in the room.

"Got anything in that brown paper bag for me?"

That voice was like sweet release for House. All the tension he had built up in the last couple of days seemed to slide from his shoulders and all his troubles melt away. Wilson was on his couch. He now felt everything would be okay.

Rather than say this and look all mushy (which really wasn't Gregory House's style), he decided on the same approach he always used. The one that made him comfortable. He would joke his way through it.

"Get your own damn comfort."

His voice was shaky but calm.

"Southern or regular?"

Wilson _was_ one to be all mushy when it came to relationships but sometimes House's way had its advantages.

House just looked at the Oncologist, wondering when he had started to feel okay about this situation rapidly developing in front of them.

His thoughts were broken however, by further words of wisdom from his friend.

"Didn't your mom ever warn you about leaving your door unlocked?"

Gregory House was placing his cane against the wall of the townhouse, all the while trying to avoid direct eye contact with his friend. Yes he might love the man but it was still a strange situation to be in.

"Yeah she said any sleazy perverted man could get in."

Wilson laughed and said every so quietly, but not quiet enough for House not to hear,

"Or out."

With that he hobbled to the door and turned the key round locking them up for the night. He slid it from the door and where he put it Wilson could not see.

He then threw off his leather jacket, revealing one of his many retro t-shirts, and walked to the couch, leaning over so his breath was clawing at the shaking man's ear.

"We wouldn't want that would we? Looks like your trapped here for the night James."

With that he straightened himself and made his way into the kitchen.

Wilson sat motionless on the couch. He knew now he was doing the right thing. He knew this was what he wanted. He had Cameron to thank for that. Before she had barged into his office with that pale look on her face about the missing House, he was quite prepared to put that weekend behind him and forget what he said to House's parents, hoping it never was repeated again in conversation. He was prepared to be his brother and show him love like that, because he wasn't sure if the man really did love him or not. He still wasn't sure if he loved him like that. But now he was. When he left the room after Chase and Foreman's outbursts it wasn't because he was angry, it was because he felt sick. Sick that something could have happened to the man he loved and his fear and stubbornness would have been partly the cause.

He brushed his thoughts aside when he heard the voice in the kitchen speak to him again.

"That's not all my mother warned me about."

"Did she say beware Jewish people bearing gifts?"

He held up a tequila bottle which was quickly and clinically snatched from his raised hand.

"No, she said beware strange men who tell you your eyes are like sapphires."

He turned round giving a little smile as he leaned over his refrigerator. He felt like he hadn't eaten in years, and the last two days he didn't want to. Now he had his appetite back.

Wilson's face cleared like an early morning fog and finally it all made sense.

"So that's what I said to you when I borrowed your pills."

"The words you are looking for are stolen and got stoned."

"Well it could have been worse, I could have, oh I don't know, told your whole family we were gay?"

Armed with a sandwich the diagnostician sat down next to the oncologist in close proximity but not so intimately as to lose this train of thought they were on.

"Or you could have told my mother you were in love with me."

It was hard for Wilson to make this out since House had half a dead cow trapped in his mouth when he chose to say it but never the less he understood enough.

"You know about that ehhh?"

"Fraid so, and frankly Wilson I'm hurt that you would tell my mother you were in love with me before you ventured it in my direction."

House was trying to wind him up for his words in the bathroom two nights before.

Wilson had the perfect symmetrical answer for him.

"Oh I'm sure you'd have worked it out sooner or later Greg, with that brilliant mind of yours."

They sat there in silence for a moment, looking at the shadows from the cars passing outside glide across the wall to and fro. All that could be heard was the noises associated with minds ticking into overtime and sandwiches being devoured. House, always analytical and methodological was the first one to ask the important thing.

"The real question is, what are we gonna do about it?"

Wilson moved his mouth like he was about to speak but then stopped abruptly, deciding rather to stare at the wall some more. House realizing he wasn't getting an answer to that particular question, decided on another.

"And what the hell's given you such a change of heart."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh please, coming over here, lying in the dark on my couch waiting for me to come home, bringing alcohol in the vain attempt to seduce me. It's so prom night. And you'd hardly look at me in work this morning. Have you been at my vicodin again, I could have sworn I left it on the table?"

He made a motion to look for the bottle knowing full well it was in his jacket pocket.

Wilson, incredulously shot back his defense.

"Who said I came over here to seduce you, maybe I came here to drink did you ever think of that? But as yet my glass still seems to be empty."

"You don't have a glass."

"Neither I do, maybe if I close my eyes someone will get me one."

House gave a little glare, one that said I really love these little conversations we have, but As yet he still hadn't made eye contact, so only the wall was witness to such affection.

"House!"

"What?"

"Glasses…stat!"

House slid by Wilson's leg, catching his thigh with his hand as he moved past. He felt the same sensation he did in the elevator on Friday and when his mother passed from one to the others arms the following day. But still no eye contact was made.

Wilson's heart began to beat faster. At some point one or both of them was going to crack, but how and when he had no clue. Why was this so damn hard! They had known one another a lifetime. They had been friends first. That was the problem. They were friends and a lot was riding on this and were it would go from that evening on. Plus there was the small minute detail that they were both men and had never had these feelings before in their life.

House was in the kitchen shakily looking through his cupboards. He drank almost every night so why, he thought, couldn't he find the damn scotch glasses! He had to calm down. He had to think. And due to unforeseen circumstances he had to now do it in relative sobriety. How do we initiate this? Should I make a move? He was getting sweaty palms over making a move on Wilson. How badly he wanted to drop to his knees and start laughing at that moment in time. How ridiculous did it sound? If someone had said that a year ago to him he would have prescribed them psychosis pills, now he wouldn't mind a couple himself. He realized he was taking too much time to get two glasses and so tried to stall a little bit longer.

"Do you want it on the rocks or neat?"

"As rocky as you can make it. Why is it so hot in here?"

House stuck his head round the door and saw that his friend had now removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves.

"I'd say it was moderate but if you wanna use that as your excuse to take your clothes off why end at the tie? Please don't let me stop you. Its not like I'm emotionally disturbed enough already without having to see that."

"It's not another one of my VAIN attempts I assure you, you know it's hot. Maybe if you turned your damn heating down I wouldn't need to perform a striptease in your living room."

"Yeah there's that and I'm all out of dollar bills."

"Hilarious."

House no longer had anything to keep him in the kitchen, and he still hadn't worked out how to handle the next step. Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe it would just handle itself.

"Screw it."

And with that he went back into the living room, sitting back down on the very spot he had vacated several minutes ago. Still Wilson hadn't moved. The only part of his anatomy showing any sign of life was his hand and in that he now clasped a newly poured ice cold drink. House decided they should make a toast, but what to? He would let Wilson decide.

"What should we drink to?"

Wilson pondered the question a few moments by swirling the liquid in his glass in a circular motion, letting it splash against the rocks violently and ravenously.

Eventually the perfect answer came to mind.

"Brotherly love. Or at least an end to it."

House breathed a sigh of relief. It would seem strange to anyone else looking in at this very unusual spectacle, that any doubt still remained as to what their feelings were, but for such cautious people (when it came to real love anyway), they each in themselves needed unquestioning proof. This was Gregory's.

"Sounds good."

And with that two glasses clinked together and the unspoken contract had been signed between them. A contract which would be honored and obeyed until death do them part… well almost. Wilson needed House's signature on the other side and he would get that with one final enquiry.

"I need to ask you a question."

"No you can't have the left side of the bed, that's were I sleep, don't like it then I'm afraid we're going to have to have words."

Wilson faced him and made eye contact for the first time that night.

"Why didn't you ask Cameron?"

As if seeing his eyes had somehow made the difference in this crazy world they were now living in, House gained real courage for the first time that night. Leaning in to the startled doctor, he brushed his disheveled hair back from his eyes. Wilson flinched a little at this but not in a negative way. If they were going to do this it would take some getting used to. It was new and it was unknown but it was wondrous and had infinite possibilities like the stars House had called out to, two nights before.

His voice came in barely a whisper.

I would love to say that he said something unoriginal like because I love you or because I need you more than her, but that just wasn't Gregory House and this wasn't an episode of General Hospital. And anyway, why waste you breath saying something that can already be felt. Instead he did as he had always done.

"Because she doesn't look half as good in a doctor's coat as you do Wilson."

And with that he kissed him passionately yet tentatively on the lips, sealing the deal for all eternity.


End file.
